


When There's No One Around

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Gen, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Series: The Lynda Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-02-20
Updated: 1999-02-20
Packaged: 2018-11-10 23:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11136975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: The four react to what they think is a failed assignment. This story is a sequel toOnly In My Dreams.





	When There's No One Around

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

_Author's Note: Garth Brooks sings 'When There's No One Around'; imagine it's being played as the scenes unfold._

When There's No One Around 

by Jackie 

pixie7@gte.net   
  


Four o'clock in the morning. Everyone is supposed to be sleeping in the Windy City. But for four people, sleep is impossible. They had just finished up a call that a man was attempting to end his life. They had reported to the scene and tried to talk the man out of shooting himself, but their efforts were in vain. After they gave their statements, the each went their separate ways to get some rest. But sleeping was out of the question. 

Detective Lynda Kowalski let herself into her apartment, greeted by Dief and Regan. She smiled - tried to anyway - but it was no use. After only a week and a half on the force, Lynda knew that one day something like this would happen. She was hoping that day would have been a lot further down the road. She was coping as well as could be expected, but she still felt like a failure. 

She sighed as she went over to her alcove windows and looked below at the city and lake. She sighed as she forced back tears. She turned around and her eyes fell on her piano. She walked over an sat down on bench. Doing what she always did whenever she was alone, Lynda guided her hands over the ivory keys, playing an old Irish song her mother had taught her. Her voice echoed the sweet words of her ancestors.   
  


_This is a song that nobody knows_

_I couldn't begin to describe how it goes_

_But it makes me cry or laugh right out loud_

_It's the song that I sing when there's no one around_   
  


Detective Ray Vecchio quietly unlocked the door to his house and walked in. He made his way upstairs to his room, where he changed from his Armani suit into a pair of old jeans and a sweatshirt. He threw his clothes aside as he looked at his reflection in his full length mirror. Even though he wasn't wearing his usual attire, he still had the same face: the face of, in his mind, a failure. He was glad he was alone, as he lay on his bed and sighed.   
  


__This is the man that nobody sees_ _

__He wears my old clothes and he looks just like me_ _

__

_Just one of the boys who gets lost in the crowd_

_He's the man that I am when there's no one around_   
  


_It's four in the morning_

_I'm lyin' in bed_

_A tape of my failures playin' inside my head_

_Of heartaches and hard knocks_

_And things I don't know_

_I listen and I wonder_

_Where will it go_   
  


Constable Benton Fraser made his way into his office and changed from his uniform into his long johns. He quietly got under the sheets of his cot and just thought. But he couldn't lay still for long. He got up, put on his jeans, an RCMP sweat shirt, and his hiking boots, and left the Consulate. He started walking down the street. When he was certain he was alone, Benton Fraser did something he always did when he needed cheering up: he began skipping around the block, acting just like a little kid. And whenever he saw another person, he walked normally, only to go back when he was the only person on the street once again.   
  


_This is a glimpse of the child that's within_

_He's so immature but he's still my best friend_

_If he could learn how to fly he'd never touch down_

_He's the kid that I am where there's no one around_   
  


Detective Stanley Kowalski let himself into his apartment, then closed the door behind him. He sighed as he leaned against his door. Failure, he thought, you're nothing but a failure, Stanley. You failed to help that man, and you failed Lynda by letting her witness something she shouldn't have had to. He threw his leather jacket angrily off his shoulders and stomped off to his bedroom. He didn't make it. 

His eyes fell on the clear spot he used to practice his dancing. He took in a deep breath, knowing it was the only thing that would make him feel better. Doing the same thing he had since he and Stella went their own separate ways, Stanley began waltzing by himself around the floor. 

_This is the dance I do every day_

_I let my feet go and get carried away_

_I let my soul lead and follow the sound_

_It's the dance that I do when there's no one around_   
  


After he had finished, Stanley felt only a little better, so he went to his room and lay on his bed, not even bothering to change.   
  


_It's four in the morning_

_I'm lyin' in bed_

_A tape of my failures playin' inside my head_

_Of heartaches and hard knocks_

_And things I don't know_

_I listen and I wonder_

_Where will it go_   
  


It was only after lying in the bed did Stanley realize that he had done everything in his power to help that man. It was a shame that he died, but Stanley couldn't think of one thing that he would've changed. As for Lynda, he was starting to realize - reluctantly - that Lynda didn't need protection from stuff like this. She was strong enough to handle that, and anything that would come her way. He began singing softly a song that he had always sung when he felt down. 

Fraser skipped back into the Consulate, then got back under his sheets. He felt better about his feelings, knowing that there were some things, no matter how much you try to help, that you can't fix. He quietly sang a song that he had heard at his mother's funeral. 

Ray sighed as he closed his eyes. He still couldn't sleep, but his depressed attitude was lifting. His lips moved as he softly sang a song he had learned from his mother, a song that would always comfort him after the encounters he had with his father. 

Lynda made her way back to her bedroom. She still sung the Irish song as she changed from her work clothes into her nightgown, and climbed under her warm sheets. 

Across the city of Chicago, although they didn't know it, four voices belted out four different songs. Each one was different, but they all offered comfort.   
  


_This is a song that nobody knows_

_I still can't begin to describe how it goes_

_But it makes me cry or laugh right out loud_

_It's the song that I sing when there's no one around_   
  


And as the four friends drifted into sleep, four smiles spread over four faces. They had found the comfort from what they thought was a failure. But that wasn't what surprised them. Instead of going to each other, as they normally did, they found comfort is doing something they only did when there was no one around.   
  


_It's the song that I sing when there's no one around_   
  


THE END 


End file.
